The Haj

The Haj

Leon Uris

Language: English

Pages: 544

ISBN: 0553248642

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Leon Uris retums to the land of his acclaimed best-seller Exodus for an epic story of hate and love, vengeance and forgiveness and forgiveness. The Middle East is the powerful setting for this sweeping tale of a land where revenge is sacred and hatred noble. Where an Arab ruler tries to save his people from destruction but cannot save them from themselves. When violence spreads like a plague across the lands of Palestine--this is the time of The Haj.

al Soukori al Wahhabi. He is the Muktar of Tabah. He is very good friends with your great commander, Mr. Gideon Asch. We were told to call him at these phone numbers if we got into serious trouble. We are trapped. Will you telephone Mr. Gideon Asch for us? Thank you. By now an officer had drifted over curiously. He read the note and all three of them studied me. ‘It could be a trick,’ one said. ‘What kind of trick? If Asch doesn’t know who these people are, he won’t come.’ ‘Please!’ I

light. The air was chilled as autumn announced itself. Charles Maan had gotten Ibrahim a secondhand coat to go along with his single secondhand suit. The new coldness made him feel even more isolated from Palestine. Some of the strangeness of Zurich had worn off. He looked forward to his evening ritual, a walk from the conference to his room in a boardinghouse across the river near the university. ‘Do you think you will be going home soon?’ the landlord had asked with delicacy. After all, the

then remained still. Ursula quietly closed the door. ‘What was that noise?’ Kabir grumbled from the couch. ‘I did not hear anything, darling.’ ‘I thought it might be our act.’ They will be along soon. Why don’t we have some H together. Something to set us dreaming, and when your eyes open again, everything will be ready.’ ‘You are good to me, Ursula, so good.’ She opened a leather kit with a velvet lining holding ‘his’ and ‘hers’ needles. His had been filled earlier with Dilaudid, enough

were born.’ ‘I am trapped!’ I screamed over and over until my own echo frightened me. I was soon numbed. ‘It is true,’ Nada said, ‘I don’t believe all that much in the revolution. But you had better listen to me now, my brother.’ I feared her words. ‘Come, let us go higher and sit where we don’t have to look down on that place,’ she said. I let her take me by the hand. She was always so agile climbing among the rocks, even barefooted. My outburst had tired me strangely. I hung my head and

though I knew they were lying, I realized that it was important for them to make a manly impression. In fact, making a manly impression seemed to be the most important part of adult men as well. In Tabah, whenever I came into a group of older boys and unmarried men, all they talked about was fucking. Until I went to school all I ever heard about it was that it was dirty, dangerous, and against Allah’s will. I knew there had been feuds between our own clans for years over boys and girls who merely